Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Indonesia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
OOIOO,
The Happenings,
Skarface,
L. Decosne,
Eve St. Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
Reuben Wilson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minutemen,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bush Tetras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Parrish,
Lungfish,
The Blues Magoos,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
Interpol,
The Mummies,
Simply Red,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
Deepchord,
The Selecter,
Loose Ends,
Theoretical Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quadrant,
Dual Sessions,
Niagra,
Organ,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
Brass Construction,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grauzone,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Wells,
Quantec,
R.M.O.,
Radiopuhelimet,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.